


Tourmaline

by Fireplum



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Pre-Relationship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 09:35:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fireplum/pseuds/Fireplum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for parchedvisions on Tumblr for the Sherlolly Valentine's Day ficathon. Sherlock and Molly are looking for a gift for John and Mary's daughter in a jewellery store, and Sherlock finds himself pondering on rings, gemstones and missed chances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tourmaline

Sherlock tightened his scarf around his neck against the brisk February wind. “Are you quite sure this is necessary?”

 

Molly smiled at him, her cheeks rosy with cold. “Sherlock, you’re Grace’s godfather. You have to get her a gift for her christening.”

 

“Yes, all right, but do we have to do it _today_?”

 

He made a vague gesture towards the shop windows surrounding them, plastered with ludicrous red hearts, paper flowers and ungodly amounts of glitter. The day before Valentine’s Day was certainly the worst possible moment in the year to go shopping.

 

“Look, I don’t have a lot of time off this week, so if you want my help - ”

 

“Fine, fine. Let’s just get this over with.”

 

Although he had to admit that being named godfather was considerably less demanding so far than preparing John’s wedding as best man, Sherlock had still taken his duty very seriously, looking up traditional christening gifts for the baby and meticulously ruling out anything that bore fantastical religious imagery or gruesome sacrificial lambs  - he’d leave that to the godmother, Mrs Hudson. In the end, he’d opted for a nameplate bracelet and was set on ordering it online. But when he’d boasted the idea to Molly one afternoon at Barts, she’d looked up from the kidneys she was delicately slicing up and sighed.

 

“Oh no, don’t do that. You have to go look for yourself – browse a little. It’s just not the same when you see a picture of it on your computer. Listen, I know a jewellery shop not far from here, why don’t I take you?”

 

Sherlock had hesitated a moment before mumbling an agreement of sorts. He didn’t know why he should be reluctant to accept Molly’s help, or why he should feel so awkward around her when she was only doing what she always did: being kinder to him than anyone had the right to be. Something had changed between them these past few months and he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was, but it made him decidedly jittery.

 

 _Utter nonsense_ , he chided himself as they neared a tidy store with gleaming display cases. There was no reason to be nervous. They were here to run a simple errand, nothing more.

 

“Now try and be nice to the saleslady,” Molly murmured. “Mary told me what happened when you all went to Ikea.”

 

“Whatever Mary may have said - ”

 

“Seriously, Sherlock, how could you make someone _cry_ because they don’t know how to speak Swedish?”

 

“I refuse to discuss that godforsaken place any further. I’m thinking of asking Mycroft to have them all closed down for the sake of the realm.”

 

Molly giggled and they entered the store. A woman in a fuchsia top and lipstick to match immediately zeroed in on them.

 

“And what can I do for this lovely couple?” she said with a grin. “May I show you our selections of rings, perhaps?”

 

“Oh no,” Molly replied, wringing her hands, “we’re not looking for rings, we just -”

 

“A Valentine’s Day gift, then? How romantic.”

 

“We’re not a couple,” Sherlock snapped abruptly.

 

The woman’s grin faltered and Molly looked down at her feet. A hot pang of remorse lanced through him. Why did he have to be so blunt?

 

“We’re looking for a nameplate bracelet for a little girl,” he added in a softer tone.

 

“Of course,” the woman said. “Let me see what we have in store.”

 

They followed her to a counter where she laid out one by one an array of bracelets that all looked remarkably similar to Sherlock. Molly, however, peered closely at them, touching the thin chains with the tip of her forefinger, a small smile playing on her lips, while the woman blathered on about engraving options.

 

Looking for a distraction, Sherlock glanced around the shop. A display case filled with diamond rings caught his eye and he found himself wondering if Molly’s ex-fiancé had purchased her engagement ring here. Was that the reason Molly knew about this place? Unlikely, he decided. He remembered that ring – a classic band half a size too big inset with tiny diamonds. Tim or Tom or whatever his name was had probably gone to one of those dreadful chain stores and picked it out because it looked pretty and was in the right price range. It hadn’t suited Molly at all, how could the man not have seen that?

 

He imagined it must be a terribly tedious affair to select a ring – he hadn’t spent more than five minutes himself buying one for Janine, anything fashionable and costly would serve. But surely, more effort was required if you were really planning on marrying the girl.

 

Sherlock slipped a glimpse down at Molly, who was still engrossed in the bracelets. Something feminine and sweet, but not too plain, perhaps a vintage model. She wouldn’t mind if it were second-hand, she had an admirable disregard for that kind of material consideration. As for the stone… Diamonds were everlasting, yes, but so obvious. No, a coloured gem would fit her better – a vivid turquoise, for example, or a beautiful amethyst…

 

“Sherlock, what do you think?”

 

He started slightly and blinked. Molly was looking at him expectantly.

 

“These are quite pretty,” she said, pointing at three almost identical bracelets. “Which one do you prefer?”

 

“Oh, um…” He squinted down at the counter. “That one in the middle. Yes, that one. It’s elegant and the nameplate isn’t too clunky.”

 

Molly beamed at him. “Yes, I like it too.”

 

“Good. I’ll take it.”

 

“Would you like a gift wrap, sir?” the saleslady asked.

 

“Absolutely not,” Sherlock replied. “I’ve been practising.”

 

Once he had given instructions for the engraving and paid for the bracelet, they went out into the cold again. The grey light of day was fading into a pinkish hue as the sun set over London. Molly shivered and zipped her jacket up.

 

“Well, I’d better get back to work,” she said. “Late shift tonight.”

 

He paused for a moment, not quite knowing what to say, not quite wanting her to go. “Molly, I… I wanted to thank you for taking the time to help me.”

 

“Don’t mention it. Anytime.”

 

“Really, I…” A strange feeling swelled in his throat, as if unspoken words were building up there, struggling to get out. “I don’t know how to say this but…”

 

Molly laid a gentle hand on his arm. “Sherlock, it’s fine. I’ll see you later, all right?”

 

He nodded and she started walking away, throwing him a small smile over her shoulder.

 

_Tourmaline._

 

The word popped up in his mind out of nowhere, but at once he knew _that was it_. A bright pink tourmaline with a tinge of yellow, like a small sunset on her finger. It was _perfect_. And if he stood there and watched Molly go, sooner or later another man would come and claim her with less, with something that didn’t fit, but that time might trick her into believing was right.

 

If he watched her go. _If he didn’t try_.

 

“Molly, wait!”

 

She stopped and turned as he hurried to catch up.

 

“Would you like to have dinner tomorrow night?”

 

She frowned. “Dinner? But Sherlock… it’ll be Valentine’s Day and… people will think we’re on a date.”

 

“And… that’s a problem for you?” he asked slowly.

 

“I don’t want to have to explain -”

 

“Why would you have to explain anything?”

 

Molly stared at him, her mouth slightly parted, then shook her head as if waking from a daze. “Oh. Right. Okay, then. Dinner would be lovely.”

 

They stood in silence for a moment. Sherlock was both dizzy with relief and racked with apprehension, his fingers itching to text John one of their patented emergency codes immediately, and such was his turmoil that he didn’t realise Molly had stood on tiptoe to kiss him until he felt her soft lips against his cheek.

 

It lasted only an instant, then she was gone again, but a tingle lingered there far after the night had fallen.


End file.
